by Guy Antibes
Esmera's gift surprised her. Valanna had originally thought that she would have a tough time in Pestle. Podor and King Harl didn't disappoint her, but the very spies who she thought to be her competitors had rallied to save her.
"I am speechless," Valanna said.
"Good, a person eats their breakfast better when the food isn't dodging words coming out." Esmera laughed. "Not really, but I like to say that."
Esmera's good humor surprised Valanna. She sat down while Esmera took the cover off the tray with a flourish, revealing two plates.
"As payment for this meal, you will have to put up with me." Esmera plopped down on the seat opposite of Valanna's.
"I can't say I'm not hungry."
Esmera smiled. "No, you can’t. I know you are. Feely and Saddlebug probably fed you a little stale bread and warm water."
"How did you know?"
The innkeeper laughed. "A good guess. Now, you eat and let me talk for a bit. We are a community, like I told you when we had our first meeting. I thought initially that you Warishians were our enemy, but I've heard we have a worse enemy."
"Snively told you?"
Esmera nodded. "He did, and now he may have to go into hiding."
"Am I being held by you?" Valanna knew the answer.
"Yes, in a sense. We all would rather you leave as soon as the pressure is off, but we think you'll only get captured again. A little captivity is not necessarily a bad thing, when it is voluntary, and you get delicious meals delivered to you. You said you needed to find out certain information? If you like, it may be easier if we found out. We all know about your Santasian adventures with Trak, and we are really doing this for him. At this point, a bloodless Warish invasion is preferable to domination by the Vashtans," Esmera said.
Valanna sat back. "I will accept your help, but if there is anything I can do, please let me join you. I am a much more accomplished magician than before."
"We know that," Esmera said. "You might become more active in our plans, but if we need you, that means our spying has suddenly become a lot more dangerous, you understand."
Valanna nodded. "I do. Snively said he wanted me to stay in Pestle for a bit longer for my protection.”
“I’ll bet he did," Esmera said. "He probably wanted you to use your magic to depose King Harl."
After taking a bite of a plump little sausage, Valanna said, "He didn't quite put it that way."
Esmera batted her hand as if shooing a fly. "He always dances to a different drummer than the rest of us."
Perhaps Snively hadn't told them of her relationship to Harl. Valanna didn't know if she should believe it or not. It sounded so far-fetched, since her uncle had never said a word about any Pestle relations.
Esmera started talking about Trak's mother and sister. She let the woman talk while she continued eating, but Trak had told her much the same things. King Harl had neatly destroyed quite a few families and that made her mad. When the innkeeper finished, she gathered the dishes back on the tray and left.
Exhaustion overcame Valanna, but not quite enough that she didn't secure her front door before she trudged to her bedroom, removed her soiled dress, and slept on clean sheets.
~
Valanna woke to the patter of raindrops on the window of her bedroom. She sat up in bed and stretched, looking about the room that Trak had inhabited when they shared tutors. Iron bars now decorated the window and dripped rainwater. She couldn’t help but smile with relief that she faced the morning unbound. The thought of her recent captivity made her hand go to her wrist. She rubbed it and still felt pain from bruising and rough skin from chafing.
She walked into the living room on bare feet. She hugged herself, and then shook her head, but nothing could erase the unpleasantness of her stay at Timor’s flat.
Valanna detected an unpleasant smell and decided to give herself a bath, so she filled the bathtub with water and used a pose to heat the water. After soaking until the water cooled, she rose and changed into fresh clothes. Now that she felt fully clean outside, she smiled again.
Her gaze went to the hiding place of Trak’s portfolio, and Valanna decided it needed more study than the cursory glance she had given it before. After pulling it from its hiding place, she put the portfolio on the table and placed her hand on the leather-bound board of the top. Trak created this. He gave the pages life, and now she would see how much more he knew than she did.
Trak left no instructions, but as she leafed from page to page, Valanna noticed that he had used some kind of code for the power words. She looked closer, and from the power words that she knew, Valanna found that he had written the first two consonants of each spell-activating word in Pestlan. Honor would know these, she thought.
Well, if Valanna didn’t know all the words, then she could at least learn all the poses. Valanna counted seventy-one poses in all. The ones in the back seemed to be written in different colored ink. Perhaps they were additional poses that he learned at the Magicians Guild or in Bitrium, since Trak had included the lift spell in the back pages. She could see Trak might have added only one spell in Torya, the description said ‘floater descent’.
Valanna pursed her lips and considered an appropriate course of study. She took a sheet of paper from the little desk in the bedroom and tore it into pieces. She placed pieces of paper by the pages of the poses that she knew. Twenty-three out of seventy-one poses were familiar to her, and Trak said that he had memorized the entire portfolio.
If she were to learn all the spells that Trak knew, Valanna would have to start now. Matching Trak’s accomplishment had just become a new goal in her life. It wasn’t just the poses she would learn. She recalled Trak and Riotro flowing from pose to pose. She would learn to do the same thing.
She might not have the power of a Black Master, but Valanna felt she had the power to perform all the poses that Trak had documented. The power words might have to come later after looking at the page of gibberish Trak had noted as the key. Perhaps the Colcanan spy, Leaf, would teach those she knew to her. Valanna knew of no other magician in Pestledown. Ultimately, Honor or Trak might help her. She didn’t know if Trak would ever speak to her again, but she wanted to show him that she had used the treasure of knowledge that he had given to her.
~
Valanna learned five new poses in the next week and had begun to teach herself how to adapt the flowing pose technique. Trak had learned how to do it with his fencing forms, and she thought of her pose transitions as a dance.
She flinched at a knock on her door and hurriedly put the portfolio back in its hiding place. She adjusted her hair and straightened her dress after her dancing practice, as she thought of it, before she opened the door to a bowing Coffun Cricket.
“I came to see how you are faring, Miss Almond.”
Valanna returned his bow and let Coffun in, bolting the door behind him. “I am bearing up under my confinement.” She wiped a drooping strand of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear.
Coffun always seemed to have a sly smile on his face, as if his mind never stopped working. “You have been cleaning your rooms? I sense a breathlessness about you.”
She had to laugh. “Since I have little to do, I have been practicing dance steps to exercise. The Santasian civil war kept me quite active and fit. If I don’t keep it up, I’ll lose my strength.”
“Certainly, a lady doesn’t need strength,” he said.
“This lady does, Mr. Cricket.” Valanna smiled, and wondered why he had taken the time to visit.
“I brought a little reading material with me. It might keep you from dancing for a few minutes.” He pulled a wrinkled letter from the pocket in his coat. “It’s from Trak Bluntwithe. Came all the way from Bennin, it did.”
Valanna found herself as breathless as Coffun claimed her to be moments before. “Trak?” She blinked away an unexpected wetness from her eyes. “I would have never thought him to write.”
“Well, it appears that he did.” He laid it o
n the table. “I have some news that will upset you. Please sit down.” He pulled a chair from her table.
Valanna sat down and appreciated the excuse to sit. Her legs felt a little weak, staring at Trak’s letter.
“You can read that in private after I leave.”
Valanna looked up at Coffun. “Bad news?”
He nodded. “King Harl has found out that you are presently residing at The Looking Inn.”
Panic replaced Valanna’s curiosity about Trak’s letter. “Do I need to escape now?”
“Too late for that. Snively says that the Vashtans have made it clear to the King that they do not seek your death at this time, nor does Warish, obviously. The King and that toad, Puddingfan, have accumulated just enough good sense to leave you alone for just a bit, but he will want an audience with you before long. Be prepared. You might get some more visitors from us in the community.”
Valanna took that to mean other spies. She hoped that Leaf Goodpenny would be one of them.
“Do not go to the palace without letting one of us know. Snively has given that condition to the King.”
“Can Snively be trusted?”
Coffun waved his hand, “As much as any of us, Podor Feely excepted, of course.”
“Of course,” Valanna said.
“I must leave. Enjoy your letter,” Coffun said as he left her rooms.
Valanna bolted the door. She knew that verbal assurances might not be enough to keep the King’s men at bay. She sat back down at the table and held Trak’s letter in her hand for a few moments. Did she really want to read it?
Would he rage about the way she treated him? She thought back to their last encounter in Amorim. Her face burned with the embarrassment that the memory brought back. She sighed and opened it with her eyes closed, wanting to read the letter, yet dreading what Trak might have to say.
Valanna gathered the strength she knew she had, and opened her eyes wide, preparing herself for whatever words she would read. She looked at the back of page that held the address that Trak had written:
Miss Valanna Almond
Please deliver to
Prince Asem Ferez, Balbaam Palace, Balbaam, Warish
Who will forward to Miss Almond.
She turned the letter around to see Trak’s handwriting. It still bore recognizable scars of learning to write when he was fifteen, but it had gained a certain unique quality. Strength, she realized. Somehow the letter made it from Balbaam into Coffun’s hands. What did that say about Coffun? Valanna didn’t care to think about that at present,
Dearest Valanna,
It started nicely enough, and that brought a faint smile to her lips.
I hope this letter gets to you intact. I am posting it with the captain of the ship that took Tembul, Sirul, Lenis, a Toryan I might have told you about, and me to Bennin. I wanted to get this to the captain before he turned around and headed back to Amorim.
My behavior at Asem’s house was inexcusable. I had visions of spending a week or more with you in Amorim, and I let my disappointment get to me. I’m sorry. I said things and thought things that were out of place. Please, please accept my apology.
Valanna felt the same. Centering her fears on herself had precipitated Trak’s reaction. She knew that now and wished that Trak knew that she accepted his apology with all her heart and would extend her own to him if he stood in the room.
I have entrusted my portfolio to you, and I think, for good reason. I don’t know how my journey to the Benninese capital will go, and it would only be a burden while I travel. Feel free to learn any poses you don’t already know. The power words are in code…only the first two consonants. Honor knows most of them, if you have an interest in learning the words. I put in the first two consonants of the words as a reminder when I memorized all of them.
I have thought a lot about what I wanted to say here. My feelings for you haven’t changed, even though my tirade might have indicated something else. That was anger and frustration speaking, not what I really feel. I know we may be on different sides of a coming conflict, but after that conflict, I definitely want to get together again to see if my feelings are real. I still think of you every single day.
Even though I am younger than you, let me give you some words of advice. I give them as a friend, or something, I hope, a little more. Don’t feel oppressed by whatever happens. I couldn’t believe how strong you had become on our trip south to General Niamo’s army. I suppose my reaction to your fears of returning to the Warish Court were made worse when we visited.
You must believe in yourself and never lose sight that you are stronger in magic, and I think in resolve, than anyone you may ever meet…except for me, of course. Ha, ha. Keep that in your mind, always. You must be patient in whatever situation you may find yourself, for you will find a way out. Rely on those you trust, but don’t trust many. Asem can probably do a better job in training you how to do that than I, but I have gone from being very, very naive to doing a decent job in choosing on whom I can rely.
If only she could have believed in herself more when she met Trak. She reread Trak’s encouraging words. Valanna longed to look into Trak’s eyes for encouragement. If he had been with her, that wretched Timor would have never abducted her. But then, that wasn’t what Trak meant. Valanna knew that Trak didn’t expect her to panic again. She knew that she hadn’t when Podor kidnapped her, but Valanna wished she could use her magic without posing to escape.
I will always be your personal supporter until there is a time of choosing between Warish and Pestle, of course.
Think of me, from time to time, as I will be thinking of you.
Your very best friend,
Trak
A tear dropped on the page, blurring Trak’s signature. Valanna quickly and carefully blotted at it. She knew, clearly, that there would be a time of choosing, and desired that such a thing wouldn’t destroy their relationship. Valanna vowed to remember the Trak that fought Riotro, and not the Trak that pouted and ran away, even though he was quite justified in what he did.
She took a deep breath and folded the letter. It would go into the portfolio. She opened the letter again and read the part about trust again. Valanna would need to dig deeply for the strength to face her father’s cousin, King Harl, knowing that encounter would be sooner rather than later.
~~~
Chapter Thirteen
~
THE WAGON STOPPED IN THE MIDDLE OF A JUNGLE. Trak heard voices and the barking of orders. Perhaps after two weeks of jostling, the wagon had reached the end of the journey to the prison.
One of Jojo’s men stood on the bench and twisted his head to look out of the air holes. “We have arrived. Prepare yourselves.”
“We will be beaten today,” Jojo said, without emotion. “It is what they do to new inmates, I am told.”
“And who told you?” Tembul said.
“My sister, for one. She knows a former inmate that managed to survive. From him, I know the layout. Let’s just hope we are all put in cells towards the back of the prison.”
Trak just nodded. His back had ceased to ache, but his ankle still bothered him when they stopped for rest breaks. Jojo had gone over the escape plan often enough in the hours and hours of their journey south. His cousin had followed the prison wagon and would take them into Beniko on their second night of confinement. Trak didn’t need to do anything but make holes in the prison walls. He could do that with a pose or without, having practiced enough in the mine.
The door opened, letting light flood in. The guards reached in and dragged the prisoners out by their feet. Being trussed up in harnesses, they could do little to protect themselves when they dropped the two feet to the ground.
Trak looked around at the prison. All the buildings ringing a large central dirt-paved yard were made from the same dark gray stone. Green streaks of vegetation or mold ran up and down the walls, giving the place an unhealthy look. At least the buildings were all a single story high. Inmates gave them unf
riendly stares from behind their bars. Beyond the buildings, a stone wall about two stories high circled the yard. Guards armed with crossbows stood on platforms set up as towers. Trak could throw a long-lasting shield around them that would last while they escaped, as Jojo suggested on their journey to the prison.
“Two Toryans and a Pestlan?” Trak turned to look at the officer who spoke. “Take one of the Toryans to the center of the compound.”
A guard grabbed each foot of Tembul and dragged him into the center of the buildings facing the courtyard and left him on the ground, face up.
“Meat!” the officer said.
A guard walked up to Tembul and placed a pile of raw meat on his chest. Trak could smell the rottenness from where he lay, looking on at the sight.
The same officer stood above Tembul and kicked him in the ribs. “Toryan scum!” He stepped back and yelled, “Dogs!”
Trak hadn’t noticed the barking, but soon four dogs ran into the compound and attacked the meat. Tembul rolled over the meat, leaving it in the dirt. The dogs smelled Tembul and began to tear his shirt off, licking his chest. One bit into his flesh.
“That’s enough,” the officer said. Guards immediately put muzzles around the dogs’ heads and led them away.
Tembul gasped in pain as he bled into the dirt. Trak glared at the officer and earned a kick in the stomach.
“All six of you earned entrance into our little bit of hell,” the officer said. “This is only the introduction.” He waved his arm towards a building. “Take the Toryans to Cell 22 and the Benninese to Cell 7.”
Trak had hoped they wouldn’t be split up, but it happened. They wouldn’t be able to coordinate their escape. Jojo had said to meet behind the prison at the second hour after midnight on the second day, but Trak had no way to tell time. Guards grabbed their feet and dragged Sirul, Tembul, and him across the yard to a cell back towards the wall, while Jojo and his three companions were dragged to the compound to the left of the gate they had entered.